we weren’t doing too well at the races on thursday. we were there to celebrate uncle wayne’s birthday. but after the fifth race, we finally won.

“ice cream! ice cream! ice cream,” they chanted. so we ambled up to collect our winnings and headed to the ice cream line.

“can we get cones this time?” max asked.
“sure if that’s what you want,” i said. last time i had made them get dishes, instead of cones. i thought the cones would be too messy.
“we want cones,” jaycie said.

eventually it was our turn.

“regular or kiddie cones?” the ice cream scooper asked.
“regular or kiddie?” i asked jayice.
“kiddie,” jaycie answered.

so one kiddie strawberry and one kiddie chocolate cone later, we made our way back to our benches. as we walked across the grandstand max suddenly stopped. we all looked to the floor. there was his perfect scoop of chocolate ice cream, and in his hand an empty kiddie cone.

he immediately burst into tears.

“what should i do?” he turned to look up at me.
“pick it up,” i said, and handed him a napkin.
“you have to throw it away max,” jaycie said.
“yeah,” i said. “you aren’t eating that.”

he started crying harder.

“what are we going to do?” jaycie asked.
“well, i think we’re going to go get him another cone,” i said.

jaycie put her arm around her brother. “it’s gonna be ok, we’ll get another one max.”

he kept crying as we stood in line and got another cone.

“i think i’ll carry this one,” i said.
“ok,” he said, sniffling.

as we settled down on the bench with two and a half ice cream cones, sister #2 burst out laughing.

“what happened?” she asked.
“max dropped his ice cream,” jaycie said.
“it was the worst thing that ever happened to me!” max said.